


Coming Home

by MarshmallowMcGonagall



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Bath Oils, Daydreaming, F/F, F/F/F, Ministry of Magic (Harry Potter), Multi, Polyamory, Quidditch, absence makes the heart grow fonder
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-16
Updated: 2020-02-16
Packaged: 2021-02-28 03:46:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,290
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22747282
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MarshmallowMcGonagall/pseuds/MarshmallowMcGonagall
Summary: Hermione's had a long day at the Ministry and in a hot bath, surrounded by aromatic oils, she finds herself daydreaming while Luna gets ready for Ginny coming home.
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Luna Lovegood/Ginny Weasley
Comments: 2
Kudos: 40





	Coming Home

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Thunder_of_Dragons](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thunder_of_Dragons/gifts).



> Thunder gave me this prompt: Hermione and Luna are used to Ginny being away. Really, they’ve gotten used to her constant travel for Quidditch, and they’d never fault her for chasing after her career goals. Hermione’s set to become the next Minister, so she really can’t be the one calling the cauldron black. Ginny’s absences only make the moments they have with her all the more special. Hermione’s just come home from a long day at the Ministry. Ginny’s come home a day early.
> 
> This is a very lightly tidied up version of what emerged on Discord.

Hermione stumbled out of the Floo, tripped on the grate, and did a twirl she might have been proud of had it not ended with her on the floor covered in ash and dust, yelping in pain from the coals she had kicked out of the fire and landed on. Forcing herself to roll over, she lay on the floor, eyes closed and groaned. The day had gone from bad to worse. She should never have agreed to help Harry. He'd been sporting the look which meant that whilst he knew he owed her a favour, it was going to cost her. There wasn't a part of her which didn't ache and she was quite sure there wasn't a part of her which hadn't succumbed to mud and water.

Soft footsteps came into the room and Hermione groaned in greeting.

"You know, you didn't need to convince me the rug needed cleaning," said Luna. They crouched down and brushed Hermione's mud-caked hair from her face. "Good day?"

"I hate Harry," said Hermione. She pushed herself up, wincing with each reminder of muscles she didn't know she had.

"But there's a queue!" sang Luna, their laugh lilting through their words. "Draco is adamant that he hates Harry and I don't think he has plans to change that."

"I'm not sure hate is a strong enough word for what Draco feels," said Hermione. She rubbed her face and the pieces of grit rubbed against her skin. Another groan slipped from her lips then she looked up into Luna's eyes, and couldn't stop herself smiling. "How's your day been?"

"Neville and I made good progress with the nargle infestation at the back of the garden," said Luna, standing up and holding out their hands to Hermione. Hermione groaned like a drunk Hippogriff and let herself be hauled up. "There was an owl from Ginny, too."

"Is she still complaining about Oliver?" said Hermione.

Gryffindors on opposing teams never went down well, which was to say the players gave in to their competitive tendencies for sending crude Howlers after the match. The Daily Prophet had a field day when they heard the latest between Ginny and Oliver. The Quidditch Association wasn't planning to take action and Hermione knew for a fact that the Department of Magical Games and Sport had a pool going as to who would give up sending howlers first.

"Oh no," said Luna. "She said she would be home tonight."

"What?" said Hermione, straightening up and wincing. "She isn't meant to be back until next week, we had plans." Luna raised their eyebrows. "I had plans, I was going to clean, I was going to - oh, Merlin, I can't see Ginny looking like this! Not after she's been away for weeks!"

"You still look like you," said Luna, frowning as they looked Hermione up and down, "unless, did you have plans to use polyjuice?"

"I had plans to look less like a creature which has been dragged out of the Great Lake."

Hermione felt the faint burn which preempted tears. She and Luna were used to Ginny being away for weeks at a time while her team was at training camps or touring for matches. This time - this time had been more difficult. Hermione hadn't managed to have even a proper goodbye, being stuck at the Ministry with paperwork which Hogwarts could hide beneath. Ginny promised it was fine, and there had been the brief hugs and kisses when Hermione and Luna Apparated to watch matches, but the adrenaline was running and Ginny's priority was to be a good captain. Hermione sniffed and Luna took her face in their hands.

"Go take a bath," said Luna, "I'll tidy up this mess." Hermione managed a small smile and Luna's wide smile tricked a laugh from her. "Just forget about polyjuice, Ginny will be too tired for that kind of silliness."

Luna patted Hermione's cheek and she understood that she was under orders. Hermione might be aiming for the position of Minister for Magic while Ginny captained a quidditch team which was top of the league, but at home in the cottage, Luna made the rules. Which was to say there weren't any rules at all but arguing only led to renewed efforts to request they take sabbaticals and join them on another expedition to look for the Crumple-Horned Snorkack.

Hermione dragged herself up the stairs and knew she would have to take a shower before she could consider a soak in the bath. Too much mud. She considered taking a leaf out of Ginny's book and sending Harry a howler.

The bathroom of the cottage was, Hermione had to concede, a choice which had seemed frivolous at first but had paid dividends over the years. The claw foot bath was, Hermione thought, a swimming pool in poor disguise. The shower had too many jets and she knew that many a guest to the cottage had taken to having long showers once they figured out all the buttons.

She shrugged off her robes then fell to the floor in her attempts to get her boots and trousers off. The mud was both dry in some places and still squelching in others and the combined effort of the earth to keep her in her clothes resulted in a well aimed charm to get her out of her clothes. She swore out of politeness more than anything else. She should have cared more about ruining her boots and trousers, but at this point, the lure of hot water was greater than anything a siren could offer.

Padding around in her underwear which she noted was muddy, too - she might send two howlers to Harry, one at work and one at home - she fetched oils from a cupboard and poured them in the bathtub and turned on the taps. Once the water was the right temperature, she let the taps run and finished undressing. Her shower would be done long before the bath was full.

One side of the shower was glass and she glanced at the bath from time to time, the aromas from the oils in the hot water drifting through to the shower as she tried to get the mud from her hair. Magic could accomplish many things. Getting a field from her curls didn't appear to be one of them. Eventually the water which ran down the drain was clear and she was what passed for clean. She turned off the shower and sat on the edge of the bath, her fingers trailing back and forth beneath the running water as the level rose. Glancing across the room, she saw the plants in the window. Every time he was at the cottage, Neville brought a plant, and their window became greener with each visit. In between two pots there was a radio, and with a wandless charm, Hermione turned it on, adjusting the station with small movements of her hand until the dial had settled on music. Looking back at the bath, she saw the tub finally full and turned off the taps. Dipping her toe into the water, she groaned. The water was hot. Too hot. And yet she wouldn't have had it any cooler. Too many knots in her muscles. Too long a day. Slowly and with moans she had no care to control, she lowered herself into the water an inch at a time, savouring the heat as it crept up her body until she sunk beneath the water and came back up, pushing her hair back. She leant back against the metal which was charmed to be warm regardless of the water temperature, and closed her eyes.

Ginny would be home that night and Hermione's thoughts strayed without decorum to their bedroom. It wasn't as though she was alone. She and Luna were there for each other every night, except for the nights Luna harvested herbs with Neville at the full moon. Luna would take Hermione to bed, determined to make sure Hermione gave her paperwork some alone time. The papers needed time to rest, Luna would say. There would be the moment they both looked at the bed knowing Ginny should be there but wasn't.

Even after all these years, Hermione didn't know how much ease Luna really felt at Ginny being away. Luna would say that Ginny would return, she wasn't gone, she was simply taking her time coming back. Where as Hermione knew there should be another pair of hands, another mouth to press against hers.

What Luna did do, however, was excel at distracting Hermione in those moments. Their soft lips against Hermione's as they helped Hermione from her work robes. The Ministry didn't belong in their bedroom, Luna would say. Hermione and Ginny had long made their peace with Luna's tendency towards nudity. They had also long made their peace with Luna's tendency towards making sure they shared in that nudity. Their lips would trail kisses down Hermione's body, stopping only when confronted with trousers. Fingers over the waistband, a gentle tug would bring them down and each time Hermione would tangle her fingers in their flaxen hair, the threat of falling long since having passed but the desire to hold onto Luna ever present. Their lips would linger on her abdomen while Hermione did her best to kick off her shoes, then her trousers would be eased down, fingertips tracing the curves of her legs until she could step out of her trousers. And then Luna traced their fingers back up Hermione's legs, a laugh usually slipping from their lips as Hermione quivered at their touch.

Some nights were slower than others. Some nights had clothes torn off. Some nights had Hermione banished to the bathroom with the command to take a bundle of herbs into the shower and not come out until she no longer stunk of heliopaths, while Luna wandered off to the study to make notes for a Quibbler article.

But on the slow nights, the nights where Luna took their time and Hermione had enough composure to stay upright, Luna would trace their fingers up Hermione's legs until -

Hermione spat out the bathwater and shook her head as she righted herself in the tub. Water sloshed around her, and she wiped her face, unable to ignore the stirring heat which had little to do with the water. She moaned and lay back, staring at the murals Luna had decorated the bathroom with. Her hands rubbed her thighs and she tried to massage the aches out of them. All over. Everywhere. It shouldn't be possible to have this many muscles.

Ginny rarely complained about her quidditch injuries except in the safety of the cottage where the grin would slip and she would wince if hugged too tightly or if one of them moved too suddenly in the midst of sleep. Hermione wondered what state Ginny would be coming home to them in this time. Ginny would sit on the bed between Hermione's legs, her legs on Hermione's. Luna knelt behind Ginny, and Luna would give them both the story as to why these oils would work particularly well while Ginny and Hermione exchanged smirks. Luna worked the oils into Ginny's back, an arrangement they had arrived at when Hermione had no argument for Luna's suggestion of how the oils were to be applied according to tradition. Hermione had been happily relegated to working the oils into Ginny's legs while Ginny was meant to rub oils into her arms. As it was Luna would gently smack Ginny's shoulder each time they knew Ginny was making crude faces to make Hermione laugh instead of honouring the Lovegood Oil Traditions.

Ginny's attempts to make Hermione laugh would falter when Hermione's hands reached further up her thighs and Luna's hands had slipped around Ginny's waist, their chest against her back. Hermione would watch the red and flaxen manes swirl together as Ginny turned to press her lips to Luna's. Then Ginny's breath would hitch as Hermione slipped her fingers -

Hermione coughed, spluttered, and grabbed for the edge of the bath. She kept coughing and held her hand against her chest as her breathing returned to normal. It was the oils. She knew it. She was too relaxed and she was going to keep swallowing bath water if she wasn't careful.

"Having fun?"

"Ginny!" Hermione turned, slipped, grabbed the edge of the bath and saw Ginny biting her lip and laughing from where she stood in the bathroom doorway with Luna. Ginny walked towards her and shrugged off her robes. Luna followed her, already naked, except for the apron which they took off and hung on the back of the door. 

"How is our almost-but-not-quite Minister for Magic?" said Ginny.

"She wants to join Draco's queue of people who hate Harry," said Luna, tapping Hermione on the shoulder and climbing in the bath behind her. They wrapped their arms around Hermione's waist and rested their head on her shoulder after kissing her neck.

"That bad?" said Ginny, taking off the rest of her clothes. She shot Hermione a glance which managed to be both concerned and amused.

"Worse," said Hermione, groaning. "But please, no Harry in the bath." Ginny and Luna both laughed. Ginny eased herself into the bath, not managing entirely to disguise the aches when she met the hot water. "Gin?"

"No Oliver in the bath," said Ginny, moving so that she was kneeling between Hermione's legs. Hands barely keeping their hold because of the oils and the water, Ginny grasped Hermione's hips and brought herself closer. Her soft lips met Hermione's. She was home, and she intended to make sure Hermione and Luna knew just how much she had missed them.


End file.
